


we got it all, babe, right where we want it to be

by loveontherocks



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks
Summary: The clear color of Barry’s green eyes is brightened by the setting sun. The room is cast in an orange glow that allows her to calm, allow the slow-pooling heat siting heavy in her tummy to disperse throughout her body. She wants him; she’s wanted him for a long time now, and she can’t imagine how long he’s been waiting for a moment like this, where there is so much skin undressed that there isn’t anything left to do but touch.or; iris and barry stumble through their first time together.





	we got it all, babe, right where we want it to be

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Somehow I managed to watch three seasons of The Flash in a single week. This here is my attempt to fill the void as we wait for season four.
> 
> The title is from Little Mix's "Nothing Else Matters". 
> 
> This is purely self indulgent, cheesy and a lil bit silly. I apologize for any typos you may encounter. Please enjoy.

In theory, being naked in front of someone she’s known for almost two decades shouldn’t seem as nerve-wracking and daunting as it actually is. Yet, even with a firm grasp on her sexuality, confident in the way she looks, she finds that it’s almost a little bit scary to bare every curve of her naked skin to Barry.

This isn’t a new concept; she’s been naked with men before, has let them touch her and kiss her and evoke a raw, almost primal part of her that is exclusive to the privacy of a bedroom. She wants Barry; there isn’t any doubt about that. It’s a step she _wants_ to take, but standing there, dressed only in her underthings, she’s reminded of all the things that make up Barry. His smile, the easy way his hands settle on her shoulders, on her waist—the effortless way he kisses her; the hush of his voice when he tries so hard to make her believe in him. The bright sound of his laugh when there isn’t darkness chasing him. The crinkles by his eyes, the messiness of his hair in the morning. The way he cares and loves and _trusts_.

With her whole heart, she trusts him.

The clear color of Barry’s green eyes is brightened by the setting sun. The room is cast in a soft orange glow that allows her to calm, allows the slow-pooling heat siting heavy in her tummy to disperse throughout her body. She wants him. She’s wanted him for a long time now, and she can’t imagine how long he’s been waiting for a moment like this, where there is so much skin undressed that there isn’t anything left to do but _touch._

“Iris, hey,” Barry says, his voice soft and tender, and right then, it’s like all the pent-up anxiety just flees from her body, leaving only desire. What could she possibly be nervous about when Barry has been all she’s been thinking about? Yes, the build up to this moment has left her thinking that maybe this should have happened spontaneously, but instead, they made eyes at each other all night throughout dinner, and eating ice cream was especially charged with all the licking involved—

The brief thought makes her smile, and she looks at Barry, wraps her arms around his shoulders. His hands are warm against her waist, curling around to press into the small of her back and pull her in.

“Hey,” she says in return. “I love you.”

It’s no secret that Barry’s smile can make her knees go weak, but before she can drop to the floor, Barry’s caught her in his arms and she’s lying on her back on their bed, in their loft, looking up at him from where he lays between her thighs. Her breath is a caught in her throat.

“I love you, too,” Barry whispers, against her lips before enveloping her mouth in a long, intense, heart pounding kiss.

* * *

 

“Barry,” Iris calls. “Please come out.” She knocks against the bathroom door, and she can hear the sink running, but he doesn’t respond. “I’ll stand out here all night until you—“

The bathroom door opens and Barry has a towel wrapped around his waist, and a solemn look adorning the features of his face. Iris’ stomach flips.

“—open the door,” she finishes, surprised at Barry’s sudden appearance.

“Iris….” He starts, not quite looking at her face. He leans against the door jamb, rubbing his hands over his face.

“It’s fine, I promise,” she says, taking a step forward to touch his arm. He doesn’t recoil from her, but he isn’t as warm to her touch as he usually.

“There isn’t a world where something like that is even in the realm of _fine_ ,” Barry replies, shaking his head. He opens his mouth, but Iris cuts in before he can say anything else.

“Okay, so it sucks a little, but we can figure it out.”

Moving past her, there’s a crackle of electricity and a gust of wind, mussing up her hair. When she turns around, all the candles on the nightstand and the dresser are blown out, and the overhead lights are turned on. Barry is sitting on the edge of the bed in navy S.T.A.R. Labs sweatpants with his elbows on his knees, looking down.

Silence settles, and Iris doesn’t quite know what to do.

“I literally phased right through you.” Barry sighs. He raises his head, blinking his eyes at her and she offers him a small smile.

“Not quite what I meant by, ‘I want you inside me,’ but anyone could have made the mistake,” Iris teases. She sits next to Barry, and the hem of Barry’s flannel raises over the flesh of her thighs. Barry sets his hand right above her knee, rubbing gentle circles into her skin with his thumb. She’s overcome with the sense of intimacy, of closeness, even after a failed attempt at sex. Just being able to touch him is almost good enough; her heart subsides into a calm rhythm, and she rests her head on Barry’s shoulder. Despite the fact he’s so tense, Barry chuckles. Iris rubs her hand over Barry’s back and laughs, too.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Barry says, his voice edging off into laughter.

“Yeah, well. No sense in making a big deal about it. So, it happened. That just means we’ll try again. We’ll get it right one of these days.”

Barry’s kiss is fiery and extremely reassuring. And truth be told, Barry’s always been incredibly satisfying with his mouth.

* * *

 

It takes a few times. It’s never frustrating or upsetting—a bit of a mood killer the third time it happens, but it always results in oral sex that leaves Iris delightfully spent, staring up at the ceiling, smiling while she tries to catch her breath and Barry drops phrases like, “So beautiful,” and “Absolutely stunning,” as he kisses his way up her body to catch her mouth.

Tonight, it’s quiet. Barry has been working on a case at the kitchen table since they’d finished dinner. Iris is running a bath; she’d signed up for a spinning class that has her thighs simultaneously rock hard and weak. She has another class early in the morning before work and she’s dreading it, but she can honestly say her endurance is getting better.

Besides, she’s sure Barry loves it, considering he’s always gone for her chest while they kiss, but lately he’s been grabbing her ass like no one’s business.

With bubbles foaming on top of the bath water, Iris undoes her heels, and ties her hair up into a bun to it doesn’t get wet during the bath. Through the mirror, she can see Barry’s reflection standing in the doorway, watching her with a reverent look.

“Help?” she says, and he steps forward, drags the zipper of her dress from the nape over her neck down to the bottom of her spine. Barry peels the fabric from her shoulders, kisses her skin with a softness that reminds her of their very first kiss, on the steps of the porch of their childhood home. She steps out of the garment and then her underwear, turning around in his arms. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes peruse her body before looking back at her. His eyes have the _worst_ habit of glittering, even in the dim bathroom lighting. It’s there every time he’s looking at her, even when he’s upset; how did she miss it before?

“Would you like to join me?” she asks him, and for a second he pauses, but answers affirmatively with a simple nod of his head.

With Barry’s enhanced speed, she’s gotten used to things being done incredibly quickly, but she revels when Barry allows things to slow down, like now, the way she unbuttons his flannel and helps him tug off his undershirt, kissing over the skin she’s undressing. She makes quick work of his belt buckle, though, pushing down his jeans and giving him a playful pat on his ass that makes him huff a laugh.

For a moment, they kiss, standing there in a bathroom with candles lit on the counter, the steam enveloping their bodies. Barry really is the sweetest kisser; he’s adaptable to situations, never uses too much tongue, and knows how to steer her in the right direction. Iris adores kissing him, could do for hours lying in bed kissing him and letting him touch her. There’s an intimacy about it that’s almost innocent and it always warms her heart. Every kiss Barry gives her always makes her warm.

Holding his hand in hers, Barry steps into the tub, and then helps Iris do the same. She leans back against the wall of the tub and Barry leans back against her chest. It’s a tight fit for both of them, and the water sloshes over the lip of the tub when they move, but it’s calming, relaxing with her hand over Barry’s heartbeat.

Usually, conversation between them isn’t sparse. There’s always something to be said, but right now, the silence is comforting.

Iris runs her fingers through Barry’s hair, and he hums. He’s almost neck deep in the water with the way he lays against her, his feet crossed at the edge of the tub and this is the only other time Barry has looked so peaceful other than when he’s asleep. She kisses his temple, and continues running her fingers through his hair. Barry starts to hum a song; she always knew he had such a wonderful voice, but hearing it without Barry singing in the shower, or under his breath along to the radio always makes her heart flutter.

“ _Baby, I’m yours_ ,” Barry sings, still with his eyes closed. His grip on Iris’ calf tightens. “ _Until the sun no longer shines, yours until the poets run out of rhyme._ ”

Iris can’t help but laugh, singing along with him. “ _In other words, until the end of time_.” She smiles against his forehead. “ _I’m gonna stay right here, by your side._ ”

“ _Do my best to keep you satisfied_ ,” Barry sings, lowly, quietly, like he’s unsure.

“ _Nothing in the world could drive me away, everyday you’ll hear me say_ ,” Iris whispers into Barry’s ear.

“ _Baby, I’m yours, until two and two is three_ —“

“Imagine,” Iris says, quieting Barry. The numbers don’t quite align, but the number three makes her think outside of just her and Barry. “A couple little speedsters with chubby hands.”

Barry opens his eyes and he looks at Iris. She’s already looking down at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. In the way, _way_ future, but you know. Food for thought.”

“I guess we should practice, huh?” He grins. “You know, for science.”

There’s a jolt that manifests low in her tummy; the thought of sex right now is incredibly enticing. Considering they’ve yet to actually—Iris smiles. “You know what they say, fifth time’s the charm.”

* * *

 

It was useless for Barry to towel them off from the bathwater considering Iris feels like she’s soaked in sweat. Her body is on fire and when Barry does the thing with his hips—

“Right _there_.” She feels like she can’t quite catch her breath.

* * *

 

It was easy to build up the heat; lying on her back, Barry uses his mouth to kiss and tease her, use those wonderfully deft hands to part her thighs so he can use his tongue to please her, take her right up to the edge before busying himself with kissing over the insides of her thighs when he decides she’s had enough. All she can do is tug on his hair with her fingers, arch her back as she pleads for him to keep going. He ignores her, licking over the fronts of her hips, sucking in marks that make her feel wanted, sexy, send sparks of electricity thrumming through her veins.

When he comes up to kiss her mouth, she nips at his bottom lip before allowing him to kiss her fully, reverently; the taste of herself sets off a thrill that dances along her spine.

“Barry, Barry, wait,” she says, a little stunned by the kiss, licking over her lips as she opens her eyes.

“What, did I do something wrong?” Barry asks, touching his fingers to her cheek. His hand is warm against her face, and she turns just a little so she can kiss the palm of his hand.

“No, _no_ ,” she says. “I just thought maybe you could lay back for me.”

He raises an eyebrow and wordlessly complies, laying back against the rumpled-up pillows. He places both his hands behind his head; his biceps bulge a little bit and Iris bites her lip. He can be so irritatingly handsome sometimes.

“I thought maybe I could be on top tonight,” she says, swinging a leg over Barry’s lap. Barry smiles.

By now, it’s been a million times that she’s seen Barry naked. He’s so tall and his body is sharp edges and pale skin, freckles on his shoulders from summer that have long since faded into light spots. There’s definition in Barry’s body, but nothing that boasts about the strength she knows he has. Nothing that could allude to the swiftness of his limbs. He’s sexy when he wants to be, Iris has found. Charming and unabashed, an entirely different person when it’s just the two of them behind a closed bedroom door.

“I think I would like that a lot,” Barry says, and he reaches out his hands to touch her thighs, her hips, dragging the palms of his hands slowly up the curve of her waist and lingering over her breasts before grasping her shoulders. Goosebumps prickle her flesh as he tugs her down.

“Missionary is a little overrated, don’t you think?”

Barry’s eyes glitter, and his grin reappears. “Can’t say, but I won’t complain about the view.” Barry kisses over her collarbones, the swell of her breasts, licking over her nipples before kissing back up her chest to catch her mouth before Iris reaches for the nightstand, and into the top drawer where they keep the condoms, but in a split-second decision, she figures they’ve both been tested, she’s on birth control, and the desire to truly feel Barry inside of her supersedes the nag in the back of her mind that they should be using condoms.

“How would you feel if we didn’t use condoms?” Iris says, kissing the column of Barry’s throat. She can feel him swallow.

“That’s incredibly suspicious after you just talked about having kids,” Barry says. He’s smiling when she looks down at him, her dark hair a stark contrast against his cheek.

“I can totally see why, but I thought maybe it would help? You know, actually having sex? I’m on the pill, and we’re both clean, and it can be for just this time. To get the ball rolling.”

“I…? I don’t think condoms are the problem, Iris,” Barry says, leaning up on his elbow, “but if you want to, I’m definitely not going to say no.”

“Okay,” Iris says.

“Okay,” Barry echoes.

Maybe it’s as simple as that, Iris thinks as Barry lays back down against the bed. She reaches behind her, grasps the length of him in her hand, stroking just enough to make Barry’s cheeks flush and for him to bite down on his lip. He’s so vulnerable this way and it’s just Iris that gets to see it.

There’s a brief sense of _finally_ that courses through her; they’ve made it this far before, and then that’s when Barry gets the shakes and basically ghosts right through her, but Iris is careful. She leans forward, forearms on Barry’s chest so she can touch his face with her hands, dragging her hips back and forth and back... Barry keeps his hands on her ass, like he’s helping her find a rhythm.

Barry makes a satisfied noise, a groan that she can feel in his chest. His mouth parted slightly, out of breath like he’s been running for miles. Iris can’t stop looking at him, can’t tear her eyes away from the soft pink of his lips, or the clear green of his eyes; she couldn’t even if she wanted to.

“God, Iris, you feel incredible,” Barry says, and God, _she_ feels incredible, like everything is slipping into place, like this is exactly where she was meant to be, sharing fire and heat with the man she loves as he watches her lose control. Her thighs tremble and he reaches down with a hand to rub his fingers between her thighs, and she throws her head back, hair falling down her sweaty shoulders, crying out Barry’s name.

Something kickstarts inside of him; it’s almost like she witnesses it when she looks down at him again. There’s a crackle of electricity and for a moment she thinks this is it, Barry’s going to phase again, but he doesn’t, not in the slightest.

She’s on her back in an instant, with Barry still inside of her, his arms bearing his weight as he looks down at her. They’ve stopped, and it’s like the pressure inside of her, that white-hot need has subsided just enough to catch her breath.

“Missionary might be overrated, but I’ve thought of making love to you like this for years,” Barry says, leaning in to kiss over her jaw. She’s slightly startled, reminded of just how long Barry has felt this way about her. It’s a confession straight from his heart, something she probably wasn’t meant to know. There’s a roughness in her throat; she’s never been this emotional during sex. There’s the buildup, the climax, and then it’s over; pillow talk and cuddling.

Then again, she’s never had sex with someone who’s been in love with her the way Barry is in love with her; unconditionally, irrevocably, _unequivocally_. So, her eyes prickle and she puts both her hands on his face so she can kiss him because—

“I love you so much, Barry,” she says, in a whisper that definitely gives away the fact that she’s crying, but Barry must know she isn’t sad with the way he kisses away the tears from her cheeks. His body moves, slowly, gently, with one forearm resting on the mattress and his other hand pressed against the flesh of Iris’ thigh, hitching her leg up around his hip and he strokes inside of her, deep, deliberate. She can’t do anything but allow herself to be vulnerable to this feeling, to the way he evokes so much emotion from her with each movement of his body, the way he says her name, the way he uses his lips to burn kisses into her flesh, mark her so she’ll have plenty of reminders in the morning of _this_ , of the way they made love for the first time.

* * *

 

“That’s never happened before,” Iris says. The clock on the nightstand on Barry’s side of the bed reads just after midnight.

Laying on Barry’s chest with his arm around her shoulders, she pulls the bedsheet up over their hips.  

“What’s never happened?”

“The multiple orgasms, Mr. Go-All-Night.” She can’t see Barry’s face, but she can imagine his blush from the way his skin burns hot underneath her cheek. Iris rubs her hand over his stomach, enjoying the way his muscles tense. His hand finds hers and he clasps their fingers together.

“I was trying to make up for all the failed attempts. Besides, I didn’t hear any complaining from you, Miss Please-Don’t-Stop.”

Now, Iris is the one blushing.

* * *

 

For the first few weeks, life is a whirlwind of crimefighting, writing and editing news articles, and having sex on every available surface in their loft.

Some nights the sex is slow, lovemaking that lasts for hours; those nights Iris is exhausted after, breathless with how much she loves Barry. Sometimes she wonders how she found the one person meant for her in a world of seven billion people.

Other nights, the sex is fast, hard, just reckless desire with the explicit sound of smacking skin and a little bit of dirty talk mixed in with the sound of their bed creaking and the headboard knocking against the wall. It makes Iris feel alive, always thinking about this Barry who is unashamed about his sexuality and always wanting to be this close.

* * *

 

It's one particular afternoon where Barry’s got her pinned against the wall, thrusting inside of her, sucking marks into her skin that she finds out he _vibrates_.

It’s unexpected; she’s so close and her fingers are gripping the expanse of Barry’s back and his body trembles for a second before—

“Ah _, oh, Barry_!” She comes, right there, with his mouth on her throat, convulsing against him as she grips him closer.

They’re on the sofa before she can even wrap her head around it, a little bit dizzy, but she feels so good. Sitting on his thighs, she leans her forehead against his, kissing all over his face.

“Did you feel that?” Barry asks, his voice full of wonder, kissing her, chaste little pecks against her mouth that she finds herself chasing.

“ _Yes_ ,” she says. “What was that?”

“I don’t know—I mean, it was me. I just—I guess I got too…excited, for lack of a better word. I couldn’t stop. But it was incredible.”

“Mmm,” Iris says, kissing Barry, licking into his mouth like she hasn’t kissed him in forever. The desire pools low in her belly. “Do it again.”

“Refractory period, babe,” Barry says with a chuckle.

“Well, in the meantime, you can use that mouth of yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
